


Tigger Holmes and the Case of the Stolen Tarts

by Small_Hobbit



Series: The Casebook of Tigger Holmes [8]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Winnie-the-Pooh - A. A. Milne
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 22:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11472921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: Tigger Holmes has been summoned by King Septimus again.





	Tigger Holmes and the Case of the Stolen Tarts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ/DW's Fan Flashworks "Thief" Challenge.
> 
> For Tigger Holmes' previous visit to the royal palace, see "Tigger Holmes and the Case of the Poisoned Apple"

“Come, Watson,” said Tigger, jamming a bowler hat on Eeyore’s head.  “The king has summoned us again.”  
  
“I didn’t think he had another daughter to lose,” Eeyore grumbled.  “And frankly, he’s got so many sons I doubt he’d miss the odd one if he went missing.”  
  
(This was undoubtedly the case.  King Septimus had seven sons and although he could cope if they were all lined up neatly in front of him, on other occasions if one or two disappeared off he would be none the wiser.  There had recently been some discussion about the seventh son of a seventh son, but since this was one of the triplets the matter hadn’t fully been resolved.)  
  
“No.  Tomorrow is the wedding day of Princess Mabel to Prince Bernhard and someone has stolen the tarts.”  
  
Tigger wished there could be a suitable musical accompaniment at this point to provide a deep dum-dum-dum.  He briefly wondered whether it would be worth suggesting Eeyore learn to play the trombone for such occasions, but had a feeling the suggestion would not be received positively.  Or maybe, when it was Pooh’s turn to be Watson, he could play the trombone.  On the other hand Tigger doubted Piglet would receive the idea with any great warmth either.  
  
But there wasn’t time to consider such matters.  The king’s carriage was waiting for them.  
  
As soon as they arrived at the palace they were ushered into the throne room, where they found the cook pointing to a young man, and accusing him of being the thief.  
  
“This is my nephew,” the king said.  “The Knave of Hearts.  Son of my brother Quartus, or was it Quintus?  D’you know, I’m not sure.  Anyway, the cook says he stole the tarts.”  
  
“Why do you always pick on me,” the young man moaned.  
  
“Because it normally is you,” the queen said pragmatically.  
  
“But it wasn’t this time!” the knave protested.  
  
Tigger looked at him.  “I do believe he is speaking the truth,” he said.  
  
At that moment Princess Mabel wandered into the throne room, accompanied by her fiancé.  There was jam round her mouth and on the fingers of her right hand.  In her left hand she held a half-eaten tart.  
  
“What’s going on?” Princess Mabel asked.  
  
“Ah,” said the cook.  “I may have been a little hasty.”  
  
“Oh,” the princess said.  “You thought the knave had stolen the tarts.  I just got a bit peckish.”  
  
“Well, she is eating for two,” the queen commented.  
  
“I’m glad that’s all sorted then,” Tigger said.  “Come along Watson, back to Baker Street.”  
  
Eeyore looked puzzled.  “Whatever you say, Tigger, um, Holmes.”


End file.
